Summing up

It might take you some time to effectively start writing a blog-diary (the idea of people reading your story can be tempting but even a bit uncomfortable, although the Internet assures you a certain anonymity), but, being a diary, I find that it takes me even longer to start writing again and catch up with all the untold time that has passed. Especially when, like in this case, so many things happened.

First of all, I want to sincerely apologize with everybody for not being able to support you.

I’m sorry girls, really, really mortified.

But I guess that this doesn’t change much, does it?

Apologies are so fucking hackneyed in my soul.

It’s not that they don’t mean much to me, oh no. They mean the world to me. But maybe the thing that I constantly feel deeply sorry for everything, especially for being the weak, nasty, useless, pointless, disgusting, BULKY thing I am.

At first I didn’t have much time to come here cause I was totally absorbed by my exam.

It was crazy. If I only think about it I feel the panic getting in my mind.

I wanted to write this huge thesis, and I did, but it really took me every fucking second of my life. After 20 crazy days of work I just basically had to revise everything (I was already doing my written exams by that time) and well, 2 nights before the last day I could hand it in, the computer break and I lost all the 87 pages of work. Yeah, you wouldn’t have wanted to be in my way in the following 30 minutes. But having so little time I couldn’t lay in despair and frustration for much longer: so I spent 2 days just writing it again. Didn’t sleep, seriously can’t remember when eaten and if even eaten anything. I suppose I did just to make my brain work again when it got stuck a couple of the times in the middle of the night.

So it was the time for the last written exam and well…you can imagine how I spent those 2 hours. I couldn’t even see. It was like being completely high, without laughs, of course. I could feel my brain trembling in my head, all my body shaking, writing was so hard cause my hand kept moving out of control.

I don’t need to tell you that it was a shit.

I spent the following days, before my oral part… Oh I don’t even know how. Eating nothing one day, just a bit the day after, everything I could find in the cupboard the day after that. I went running a couple of times. I managed to do 8 Km the first day. That was quite unexpected (especially cause I smoke so much). I loved it. Then I start hanging out with some guys I know. Getting constantly drunk and couldn’t come here because the computer had used to write the thesis is so old and it almost can’t open even the google page anymore, I let you imagine what he could do when trying to log in here.

I vomited a couple of times. I just couldn’t help.

So I certainly wasn’t 52 for my 18^th birthday, and maybe I wasn’t even 55 when I took my flight to Brisbane. I seriously don’t know. I can’t understand my body. Even if I don’t eat much and work out a lot, nothing changes. Not in one day, not in ten, not in thirty.

I am so frustrated about it, seriously. In 2 weeks I’ll start uni and, well even if it sounds stupid I wanted to look good for this new beginning.

Oh God, I’m so afraid. I can already see their faces. Trying to ignore me but without being able to hide the disgust and the filth every time I am around.

I am so tired of this.

It’s not that I want everybody to love me. I am just tired of being the fat one. The disgustingly fat and ugly one. The inappropriate one. The one who can’t relate with anyone.

What’s so wrong about me?? I… I don’t know! I wish I knew so I could fix it. But maybe it’s more than one thing, and certainly being such a cow is one of the problems.

But Jesus, I try, I do fucking try but the results just don’t come up, so I get frustrated and eat everything until I feel sick and pathetically throw it all down the toilet.

I am moving to Rome soon. Hopefully, living on my own I’ll be more able to organize my life.

My mum gets so aggressive and/or sad when I eat less.

I hate her.

She is so plaintive and whining all the time. She is so…inappropriate, in everything she does. I am so afraid of ending up like her. She is just an annoying shadow. She is so weak. The way she looks around with those empty, lost, stupid eyes hits my nerves. I know that I sound mean. Maybe I am. But I swear to God that I can’t stand her anymore. Always thinking everybody hates her. So fat and so envy of me cause even if I am such a cow I am a bit slimmer than her.

She never listen, nor ever has, to what I say. Never. I can’t remember of even one single time she payed attention to me. Always thinking that a few kisses will sort it out. Well, not for me. I can’t wait to get so far from her.

And my father, he doesn’t stand her anymore.

He’s just in the deep of a 50s crisis. Wishing he could go back to his 20s and believing that it is possible to do so. We went to Paris, basically as soon as I was back from Australia, and came back home yesterday night, but gosh, if I have to say what is Paris like, I guess that whoever looks on google’s pictures will be more precise of me, cause we spent all the time literally running after him, who was trying to be on his own in the city of his youth.

I remember trying to walk faster, my mother and my brother far behind, after walking for 6 hours straight and…not having the strength. “He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want us. We are just a pointless and embarrassing load. He has never wanted me. I am sorry for not getting the highest mark in my exam. I’m sorry to have disappointed you. I am sorry for being so fat”

Sorry sorry sorry… and the eyes get filled of invisible tears.

 

Well I don’t want to bore you any longer, so I’ll write the rest in another post (even if probably nobody comes around here anymore). I hope you are doing great. And, yes, I’m back, even if I’ve never really left. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. But even if I don’t make any progress, well, I can still support you, which is so very important to me.

 

Love you girls. Missed you so much.